Chasing Shadows
by homesweethomicide13
Summary: Though neither man remembered, they had met once before, so very long ago... Is this where their friendship began?


**Title:** Chasing Shadows  
**Author:** homesweethomicide13  
**Rating:** T  
**Pairing:** Some LiefJasmine and BardaLindal at the end.  
**Warning:** None  
**Disclaimer:** As much as I like to play with my boys, they're not mine  
**Summary:** Though neither man remembered, they had met once before, so very long ago…

**Chasing Shadows**

Jarred strolled through the palace gardens, hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers, staring up at the sky above him. He was alone, since Endon was with his father for the entire day – something Jarred couldn't participate in. He'd avoided Prandine and Min so far, not wanting to be coerced into doing something he didn't want to in order to keep himself 'out of trouble', but he was finding it harder and harder to escape either of them. He had free reign of the grounds – most of them, anyway – but by himself it was a little boring. He had no one to talk to, since he and Endon weren't allowed to talk to the other children in the palace, and so he was stuck trying to entertain himself alone.

He turned a corner along the garden path, and quickly ducked behind the nearest tree. He'd accidentally come a little too far out of the royal boundaries, and he'd stumbled into the part of the palace gardens that was designated to the other children. That wasn't what had made him halt, however. No, he'd seen Min, and his natural reaction was to hide. He liked the woman, he really did. She was nice, kind, and she cared for him as much as she cared for Endon, and Jarred was sure that if she didn't have a job to do he wouldn't hide from her so much – but he absolutely detested some of the things she had to make him do.

He peered carefully around the tree, preparing to run if she spotted him, but he quickly realised that she was neither looking for him, nor paying attention to her surroundings. Jarred moved position slightly, peering even more around the tree as he realised Min was talking to someone – someone shorter than her, by the way she was bending slightly, hands on her hips. Jarred smirked. He knew that stance. She'd scolded him enough times for him to recognise when she was doing it to someone else. He couldn't hear what she was saying, and so he attempted to move closer, being as quiet as possible. Finally he found a safe hiding place in ear-shot.

"…but Mother!" He heard a young male voice whine. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Min had a child?

"Do not 'but mother' me, young man. I have told you enough times to stay within the boundaries set out by the Chief Advisor. You are not permitted to enter the grounds designated to the royal family." Jarred crouched low and moved again, and finally spotted the boy Min was talking to. He looked to be about Jarred's own age, with chin-length dark hair that seemed to have a life of its own. He was dressed in an over-sized grubby white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a leather belt tied around the middle, upon which was attached what looked like a sheathed sword. His dark trousers – with holes torn in both knees, Jarred observed – were tucked into a pair of black boots that had seen better days, the laces trailing on the ground, undone.

"Well it is not fair! When I am a palace guard, I will be allowed to go anywhere I like, so why not now?" The boy scowled, folding his arms over his chest defiantly.

"Because you are not yet a palace guard, and neither will you be if you keep up this disobedient attitude."

"I was only going to take a look!" He replied sharply. Jarred actually admired how stubborn this boy was, especially against Min. He had long ago discovered that it was pointless to argue with the woman, since it was downright impossible to win. "A few moments would not hurt anyone."

"If Prandine caught you where you are not supposed to be, there would be trouble, and very well you know it. Now, run along, else I will ban you from seeing your friends for the next week." With a scowl on his face, the boy turned and stormed off into the gardens. Jarred watched as Min smiled fondly in the direction he'd run off in, before turning and leaving in a different direction. Jarred waited until he was sure she was gone before he crept out of his hiding place. He was curious about this apparent son of Min's – she'd never mentioned having children to him or Endon, which he felt was a little odd, since she told them both a lot about herself while she worked around them.

A grin on his face, he slowly walked after the boy, wondering how far he might have gotten. He followed the path into an enclosed grove of tall trees, surrounded on all sides by thick bushes. He'd taken all of three steps before something rustled behind him and he suddenly found himself on his back, a boot pressed to his chest, and the point of a sword against his throat. With surprise, Jarred met the eyes of the boy Min had been talking to.

"Ya know, it is kinda rude to eavesdrop on a private conversation." The boy leant down, smirking at Jarred. "Maybe I should cut you up, knock ya around some, teach ya a lesson in manners." Jarred swallowed nervously. This boy had mentioned becoming a palace guard – that surely meant he was in training, and Jarred had seen some of the boys from the training academy. They were tough, and they were ruthless.

"I did not mean to!" He said quickly. "I… I was hiding, that is all."

"Hiding? From who?" The boy frowned suspiciously. Jarred attempted a smile.

"Would it make the situation any easier if I said I was hiding from Min?" He asked quietly. The boy's frown deepened and Jarred felt the point of the sword prick his skin painfully.

"Why ya hiding from my mother, kid?" _Kid_? Jarred thought, amazed. _Did he just call me 'kid'?_ "Better speak fast. I do not like anyone bringing my mother into things."

"I am not hiding for any particular reason, I swear! I just want to be on my own. No adults, you know?" There was a long moment of silence, and then the boy stepped back, sheathing his sword. Jarred sat up a bit, still unsure about the boy. "What is your name?"

"It is polite to give one's name when asking another's." He murmured coolly. Jarred stood up, brushing himself off. Then he held out a hand.

"I am Jarred." He smiled. The boy regarded his outstretched hand for a moment, before taking it and clasping it in a firm handshake.

"Barda." He dropped his hand and stared at him. "You… you are that royal kid, right? Prince's little friend." Cool blue eyes quickly scanned him up and down. "You do not look like much." Jarred felt a flash of anger rush through him.

"Who are you to talk to me like that?" He hissed. He hated pulling rank on people, but he was angry and he didn't care.

"The guy who one day might very well save your stupid, pampered life." Barda shot back.

"I doubt it. You probably will not even become a guard." Jarred snapped at him. Barda's hands shot out and grabbed the front of Jarred's shirt, and then Jarred found himself slammed against the trunk of a tree.

"You wanna say that again, jerk?" Barda growled. "Go on. Say it." Jarred stared into those blue eyes, now flashing with cold anger and fury. "Wanna know what happened to the other boys who thought I was not good enough? Maybe I ought to show you." Jarred shoved at him. It was a pretty pathetic attempt, but it got him to loosen his grip a little.

"I will not stand for some dirty servant boy touching me like that."

"What did you just call me?" Barda glared at him. Jarred smirked. He'd clearly hit a nerve.

"Dirty servant boy." With an angry yell, Barda pounced. They hit the ground and rolled several times, ended up in the bushes. Branches slashed at their clothes, and their skin, but neither of them noticed. They exploded out of the bushes and rolled down a short hill, landing in a heap at the bottom. Barda had landed on top of Jarred, and he quickly knelt up, pinning the other boy to the ground. He raised a fist, aiming to strike. "Wait!" Jarred called out quickly, holding one hand up. To his surprise, Barda actually hesitated. "If you strike me, you will be punished for it."

"Really now? I could claim it was self defence." Barda smirked. "And besides, are you not in the wrong part of the grounds? Surely you would be in more trouble from the Chief Advisor than I." Jarred stared at him, stunned. Of all the in-training palace guards he had seen so far, not one of them had shown signs of any form of high intelligence. But he could tell from the glint in those cool blue eyes that Barda was hiding a very clever, and very sharp mind. Well, two could play at that.

"I will claim that you attacked first, forcing me over the marked boundary. You cannot surely think you would get away with it, do you? I know your name, and I know your parents." Jarred smiled smugly at him. He had him there. No one would believe a servant boy over him, after all. Barda's eyes narrowed.

"No. You do not know my parents." He growled. "You only know my mother." Jarred rolled his eyes.

"That may be true, but I am sure it will not be difficult to locate him. No doubt he will not be pleased with you manhandling royalty." Barda snarled a little and pushed himself upright, standing beside Jarred and glaring down at him.

"Maybe I should take you to him, so you can ask him just how displeased he is." When he held out a hand, Jarred was confused. A part of his mind told him not to trust the outstretched hand, but he ignored it and allowed Barda to haul him to his feet. "Come on, he is this way." Curious, Jarred followed the other boy as he began walking off through the gardens. He studied the boy as they walked, taking in the smaller details. There was a bandage wrapped around one wrist, and he had several cuts and scrapes over his exposed arms. There was a thin cut on one cheek, and bruising under his eye. His clothes were torn in a few places and covered in patches of dirt and dust – the bottoms of his boots were caked in mud, and the trailing laces were filthy. A quick glance at the boy's knuckles gave Jarred the idea that this kid was a fighter – both hands were covered in grazes and scrapes, the telltale signs of hand-to-hand combat. Despite his young age, he was already a big lad, taller than Jarred by quite a bit, and certainly with more pronounced muscle on his limbs.

"How old are you?" He found himself asking.

"What does it matter to you?" Barda shot back, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I am just curious." Jarred shrugged, falling into step beside him. It made him uncomfortable to be standing so close to someone who had, only a minute or two ago, been about to knock him into next week, but he'd realised he had no idea where they were anymore. Better to stick close than risk getting lost, although he was sure someone would find him eventually.

"I am eleven." Barda told him after a moment of silence. Jarred felt his eyebrows shoot up in a split second. He had to be lying! He was so much bigger than him, and _he_ was fifteen!

"That cannot be true! You are much too tall for that!" He exclaimed. Barda tilted his head to glance at him and grinned.

"I have always been rather tall. Mother says I was a big baby, too." He shrugged. "I get it from my father." Well, Jarred couldn't argue with that. Min wasn't exactly a short woman, but he knew she was under average for women her age. "If it sounds any better, I am nearly twelve." It certainly didn't make Jarred feel any better about himself – he'd believed he was quite strong, especially with all the blacksmith work he'd done with Endon, but now that he knew he'd been easily overpowered by an eleven year old… he felt rather pathetic.

"So, are all in-training palace guards like you?" He enquired. No wonder the guards were so strong if they were like this as boys!

"Not really. At least, not the boys my age." He shrugged again. "I tower over most of them, except for one. He is the same as me in height and strength." Barda grinned again. "It certainly makes for some interesting fights." There was a moment of silence. "So, why are you not with his royal highness? Mother says the two of you are never far from each other."

"Hmm? Oh… Endon is with his father today. Learning about the duties he will inherit when he is king." Jarred explained, feeling a little less uncomfortable around Barda now. He realised that this boy had the same comforting, warm smile as his mother. "Where are we going, exactly? I thought you were taking me to your father!" He frowned a little as they stepped out of the thick bushes into an open expanse of grass, bordered by a small fence.

"That is exactly what I am doing." Barda said calmly, walking out onto the open land. A chill ran down Jarred's spine as he realised where they were. Rows upon rows of markers stood erect, an equal distance apart from each other. Some of the markers were ancient, covered in moss, the lettering upon them fading away. Others were much newer, some of them accompanied by a mound of dirt that hadn't quite settled back down into the earth again. Barda had brought him to a graveyard.

"Perhaps this was not such a good idea, after all…" Jarred murmured, but Barda was already several feet away, standing in front of a gleaming marker. Jarred walked towards him, pushing back the shiver of unease about to dance down his spine. He glanced at the marker once he stood at Barda's side. Judging from the clean marble and clear lettering, it was still relatively new. He read the name upon it, and noted the words beneath – this man had been the deputy palace guard. Jarred realised, with a chill, that he'd actually met the man on a few occasions. He'd known his name. He just hadn't made the connection between the face of the deputy to the face of the eleven year old that now stood beside him.

"Well then, Jarred. I believe you have something to say to my father." Barda murmured. Jarred turned, and realised Barda had been staring at him. He shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I am sorry. I… I did not know…" He averted his eyes, staring down at the grave. Someone had placed a bunch of lilies upon it, along with a message on a small card. Though he could not – and would not – read the message itself, he did spot the signature at the bottom. Min had been here rather recently.

"The next time you try to pull rank on someone, it might be in your best interest to guard your tongue and keep well out of it." Barda's words were lined with ice. "I do not expect you to understand such things. After all, you are royalty, are you not? You have everything. Us 'dirty servant boys' are beneath you, am I right?"

"Do not speak as if you know me." Jarred shot back, feeling anger rise up again. "I may be classed as royalty to the rest of the palace, but I was not always so. I was a servant boy once, a long time ago. I lost my father, too! Do not assume I have no understanding of such a loss when you know nothing of me!" They faced each other beside the grave, hard green eyes staring into cool blue. And then Barda smiled.

"Perhaps you are not so bad after all, Jarred." He murmured quietly. "It must be your servant boy roots." He shrugged. "You can take the boy out of servant life, but you cannot take the servant life out of the boy." He clapped a hand on Jarred's shoulder, and Jarred actually winced at the pressure. He vowed at that moment that he would never put himself in a situation where he would anger such a boy again. "Come. I will walk you back to your boundary. It is fortunate you ran into me instead of someone else." Barda began strolling back the way they'd come. "Although I am considered the toughest, I am most certainly not the meanest. Luck was on your side, Jarred. I know of countless others who would not have hesitated to strike you as I did." Jarred jogged to catch up to him.

"Well then, I thank you for doing so." He muttered. The walk back through the gardens was quiet. Neither spoke, except for the occasional comment on their surroundings. Finally, Jarred recognised the small grove where Barda had first cornered him. "I think I can find my way from here."

"I think it would be best if you stayed where you are supposed to from now on." Barda told him, stuffing his hands into his pockets again.

"Maybe you should do the same." Jarred smirked, remembering the conversation he'd overheard earlier. "Min was right. If you were caught in our grounds, you would be in serious trouble." Barda lifted his chin defiantly.

"I go where I please." He growled. "And when I am a palace guard and saving your uptight noble ass from an enemy, you will remember the way in which you tried to treat me, and you will regret it." Jarred smiled.

"I am sure I will." He held out his hand. "Until then, Barda." Barda raised an eyebrow before pulling one hand out of his pocket and taking Jarred's outstretched hand, clasping it once again in his firm grip.

"Until then, my Adin-damned Lordship." He smirked, and Jarred couldn't help but grin.

"Do not push your luck, servant boy." He released his hand from Barda's grip and turned to leave. "I take back what I said earlier, by the by." He turned back to face him. "I am sure you will make a fine palace guard."

"Too right I will." Barda grinned. "Just you watch, Jarred. I shall be the best guard this palace has ever been!" And, with smiles on their faces, they both turned and went their separate ways. Both had felt the slight beginning of a friendship brewing, but no two boys could have been further apart in class. Barda would remember his meeting with Jarred every time his mother returned home from work and spoke about her day. Jarred vowed never to forget the rough boy he'd met in the gardens, and worked harder during his blacksmith duties with Endon, determined to build up his muscles in case he should come across that boy again.

But then both of them had their worlds turned upside down, and the events that followed would lock memories away, perhaps never to be re-opened.

-x-

Doom settled back into his allocated seat at the huge dining room table, a smile on his face as he observed the faces of his close friends and family as they laughed and chatted cheerily with each other. It was a time for celebration – his daughter had just married the man she loved, the man who wore the Belt of Deltora more proudly than the previous kings and queens. They'd just finished the feast that had followed the ceremony, and everyone was in high spirits. Good food and wine had been consumed in great quantities, and it appeared that the festivities would go on for many more hours.

He watched as Lindal walked down beside the table, two freshly opened bottles of wine in her hands, having fetched some from the kitchen herself. She set them both down upon the table and aimed to seat herself once more. He grinned as Barda, who had the seat next to hers, quickly stood up and pulled out her chair. It was a source of amusement for all when she simply raised an eyebrow at him and swatted away his hands, before taking her seat. Barda sighed and also sat back down.

"Ever the gentleman." Sharn commented fondly, smiling affectionately at the big man. Barda returned the smile easily. He reached for one of the bottles and began pouring more wine for those who asked. Pretty soon, both bottles were empty, and there were still glasses to be filled.

"I shall fetch some more." He stated, standing up.

"You know, Barda, we hire people to do things like that for us." Ranesh laughed.

"He is right, Barda." Lief nodded, a grin on his face. "You are of high status now. Act like it." He laughed. Barda shook his head with a grin, but took his seat again.

"That may be so, Lief, but I will always be a servant boy at heart." He picked up his glass and took a sip. "You can take the boy out of servant life, but you cannot take the servant life out of the boy." At his words, Doom frowned. He was sure he'd heard those exact words before. At the same time, Barda paused, glass raised halfway to his lips, and he, too, frowned. "Why, that is odd. I have the strangest feeling that I have spoken those exact words before…" He murmured. Doom stared at him, and then it hit him.

Memories flooded his mind. Memories of a boy dressed in dirty, torn clothing, a sword in his hand. Memories of a conversation shared, of a walk through the gardens, of a marble marker in a graveyard… of an eleven year old boy who was both taller and stronger than himself, but had the kind heart of a woman he'd grown up around. Memories of clasped hands and a promise to meet again. And he smiled. Time and a life in the Shadowlands had hidden these memories from him for many long years, but now he recalled that single day as if it had only been yesterday. He met Barda's eyes across the table, and his smile twisted into a smirk. Clearly Barda had forgotten too, but perhaps he could jolt his memory a little…

"Dirty servant boy." He muttered, keeping his eyes locked with Barda's. Everyone had turned to face him, but he was watching for Barda's reaction. The palace guard chief stood up sharply and slammed both hands onto the table, causing the plates and cutlery to rattle.

"What did you just call me?" He growled, anger flashing in his blue eyes. Doom only grinned.

"A dirty servant boy." Doom repeated, the grin never once fading from his face. Barda reached across the table and fisted a hand in Doom's shirt, almost pulling him up out of his seat.

"You wanna say that again?" He snarled. Doom laughed.

"So, history must repeat itself." He said lightly. Barda's expression changed from anger to confusion. Aware of several eyes upon him, Doom went on. "We have met, once before. It seems both of us had forgotten, but at your line about taking the boy out of servant life, I remembered. You spoke those exact words to me when we were much younger, beside the grave of your father." A stunned silence settled upon the table, and Barda loosened his grip on Doom's shirt a little. Doom could see him searching his mind for the memory that was buried under so many others. Then it clicked, and a smirk spread across his face.

"I remember, my Adin-damned Lordship." He grinned.

"Thank the heavens. I thought for a moment that we would actually have to fight again before you remembered." Doom smirked. Barda released his hold on Doom's shirt and raised his eyebrows.

"If I recall, it was not much of a fight. I was about to knock you into the next week whilst you lay there quivering, probably about to cry." He murmured casually, settling back down into his chair. A few laughs spread around the table and Doom scowled.

"I was merely diverting your attention so that I could gain the upper hand." He shot back. Barda smirked.

"Of course. That is obviously what you were doing, though I must say it very much looked like you were trying to talk your way out of being beaten up."

"I could have taken you." Doom growled, aware that his friends and family were now snickering amongst themselves. Barda smiled smugly at him.

"Oh, please. I was ten times stronger and much bigger than you. You would not have lasted five seconds."

"How old were you both?" Jasmine enquired, an amused grin plastered to her face. Doom sighed, hiding his face in one hand.

"Doom here was what… fourteen, fifteen?" Doom nodded, cringing at what he knew was going to come next. "I do believe I was eleven." Barda grinned.

"You nearly got beaten up by an eleven year old? At fifteen?" Gers roared with laughter.

"In my defence, he was not your average eleven year old!" Doom protested loudly over the sounds of playful laughter. "He was taller than me, for Adin's sake!"

"Aye, and I still am." Barda grinned, picking up his wine glass. "And I bet I can still knock you into next week." As he sipped at his wine, Doom cleared his throat.

"Who won the fight in the Rithmere Games, Barda?" Barda set his glass down and met Doom's eyes.

"You cheated." Now it was Lief and Jasmine's turn to share a grin and laugh quietly to themselves. Doom stood up, leaning on the table.

"Really? I do not think I did. I won. You just cannot handle that fact." Barda, too, stood up. He also leant on the table, so the two men were staring into the other's eyes.

"Is that so? Well maybe we should test out that theory? And this time, there will be no cheating involved."

"There was none before." Doom rolled his eyes. "But alright. I accept your challenge, servant boy."

"Bring it on, your royal lordship."

"Or you could both sit down before I knock some sense into both of you." Lindal cut in, her eyebrows raised as she stared at them both. Barda and Doom were silent for a moment, and then they shared a glance with each other. There was a pause, and then they both sat back down. "That is what I thought." Lindal smirked.

"I would have won." Barda muttered. "Ow!" He yelped when Lindal cuffed the back of his head rather hard. When Doom snickered, she swiftly kicked him under the table.

"Ow! Barda, will you control your woman?" Any further arguments over strength or cheating were forgotten as everyone burst into fresh peals of playful laughter as Barda flushed scarlet at Doom's comment.

"She… Lindal is _not_ my 'woman'!" He stammered, going an even darker shade of red. Lindal laughed and ruffled his hair.

"You cannot deny it anymore, old bear. It is obvious to anyone with eyes." She gave him a playful shove. "Get used to it." Barda swiftly picked up his glass and hid his blush behind the pretence of drinking from it.

"So, when is the wedding?" Marilen teased lightly. Lindal smirked.

"I was thinking sometime in the summer." She burst out laughing when Barda proceeded to choke on the mouthful of wine he'd taken at just the wrong moment. He recovered, and turned to stare at her in shock. She simply grinned. "Any arguments, old bear?" Everyone held their breath, waiting for Barda's response. After a moment, he sighed.

"Summer sounds fine."

* * *

**_Author's Note:_**_ First of all, I have no idea why it's called Chasing Shadows. This is an idea I started a few months ago (back when I probably had a reason for the title) and only finished recently. I have no idea what the title is about, or whatever reason I used for it, but I like it so I left it as it is XD_

_I know I've already done a 'what if Barda and Doom crossed paths once before?' story (Paths Crossed, I believe) but to be honest it wasn't that great and I no longer like it. I prefer this one. Originally the end bit was supposed to stop after Barda called Doom "my Adin-damned Lordship", but the words kept on coming and it turned into something more BardaLindal. I liked it, so I left it (much like the title)._

_- homesweethomicide13_


End file.
